


Beneath the Fleeting Moonlight

by LuciferxDamien



Category: Samurai Champloo
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Behavior, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Outdoor Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:00:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23603455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuciferxDamien/pseuds/LuciferxDamien
Summary: Nagasaki wasn’t so far off, not anymore. Jin sneaks away, Mugen follows after and catches a glimpse of something intimate…Something that Mugen can’t help but want more of from Jin before their time together runs out.
Relationships: Jin/Mugen (Samurai Champloo)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49
Collections: Smut 4 Smut 2020





	Beneath the Fleeting Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tangerine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangerine/gifts).



Hot night… It was getting warmer the closer they got to Nagasaki. Jin was out, Fuu was asleep, though, how she managed to sleep so soundly on that nasty ass floor was beyond him. 

Not… that Mugen’s standards were so much better. 

He huffed all the same, clattering out of the small room, stumbling down the broken steps and managing to fall into his geta. His heel hurt from catching it on the step and he looked behind himself to see if Fuu had woken up, but when she continued to snore loudly, Mugen just shrugged his shoulders, hunched over as he shuffled through the forest. 

It was warm, he was sweaty, he was _hard_ — 

There was rustling a ways off, Mugen growing stiff, well, his back straightening up; he was already _plenty_ stiff at the juncture of his thighs. He grinned, sauntering off in the direction of the sound, uncaring at the lack of proper moonlight. Might have been an animal, probably wasn’t though. Nothing had been that simple since he and Jin clashed in that dumpling shop ages ago. 

Everything was uncomfortable, Mugen’s palms itching, his sword strapped to his back as he moved toward the sound, scratching at his chest to alleviate some of the annoying tingling. 

“Haaah…” 

Someone moaned… 

Mugen froze in place, listening closer. 

Nah, that wasn’t just _someone_. 

That was Jin. 

Mugen grinned, following the sound, the wind rustling the grass, the bamboo leaves, cooling his overheated skin. Another moan, louder, breathier. Sounded steamy and Mugen had to concentrate to keep from moaning in response; if Jin was doing what Mugen was pretty damn sure he was doing, well… 

He really didn’t want his dong to get cut off if he caught Jin in… a moment of intimacy. 

Jin had been excusing himself lately, taking himself from the fire or any old broken down house they could find. Is this really what the bastard did when he disappeared…? Disappointing, Mugen woulda kept him company, maybe even give him more than just a hand… 

Jin may not have been Mugen’s typical type, but well. Jin wasn’t ugly, either. And he was strong, tenacious and… 

And watching his composure break _had_ to be fun, right? 

There was a stream and Mugen moved carefully in the tall grass, trying to keep silent, which was surprisingly more difficult than he realized, always preferring to attack head on, loud, voracious, unyielding. And Jin, he was so… 

Silent. 

Even now. 

Mugen came to the river, staying back. Jin was on his knees, facing the water, facing away from Mugen, and again, that was disappointing. What was the point in watching the bastard jack it if he couldn’t actually see anything?! Mugen grumbled, but he kept away from the riverbank, staying back in the trees and bamboo, hiding himself and moving some leaves out of the way so he could watch. 

Probably wouldn’t be much of a show anyway, the moon half-hidden, casting darkness and swaying shadows. 

But he watched, cock aching all the same. Jin’s hair was still up, swept over his shoulder. His cheeks were flushed, well, the one that Mugen could see, anyway. He was on his knees, so close to the river. Hopefully the sound of the rushing water drowned out any noises Mugen might make… 

The last thing he wanted was to be attacked, caught with his cock out and _oh_ , his cock was out. Mugen had no self control, his pants down his narrow hips, barely clinging to his skinny thighs as he watched. Jin moved his hand faster, bent over, his other hand slamming into the gritty, pebbled beach of the river as he let out a breathy, rasping moan. 

Damn the guy had a lot of self control. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Mugen knew he could learn from Jin, but right now, he just wanted to watch the repressed, stuck up guy get himself off. Mugen could see more of Jin now, see the blur of his hand on his cock, and maybe it was sizeable? Couldn’t really be sure, Jin so far away as the moon hid, Mugen breathing in heavily himself as his own hand was wrapped around his cock, jerking much more slowly. He was leaking though, and he was so hard. The head was slippery under his thumb as he swiped away the pre-seed, pulling back his foreskin only to roll it back over the tip. 

What did Jin like…? 

Mugen let out a gasp, Jin moaning louder, but only just a bit. Damn the guy was repressed! Mugen felt frustrated, wanting to be loud, his throat aching as he held back his cries. How the hell did Jin do that?! He was going nuts! 

And then, there it was. A cut off, restrained, strangled cry. Jin had turned partially away from the river, jerking himself hard, jerking himself fast. Long, black hair fell over Jin’s far shoulder and Mugen could thank a god that it wasn’t blocking his face, but then, Mugen would actually have to care about things like religion. 

The guy seemed to have a pretty nice cock, seemed to have a pretty good idea of how to use it, too… Mugen groaned, his cheeks hot, watching as Jin jerked with his left hand, bracing himself on his right arm, giving Mugen the perfect show. 

But then, it was over too fast, Jin trembling, shaking, biting on his lip as he threw his head back, his glasses still on his nose, even as he shook. Barely any sound left Jin, his throat bobbing as he swallowed and Mugen had fleeting thoughts of sucking bruises into that pale flesh, high enough his kimono collars couldn’t cover the marks. Whiteness painted over the rocks, and Mugen realized, vaguely, that he’d shot off into the bamboo he hid behind, coating his fist in seed. 

Damn… 

Mugen dropped to his knees. He was sure Jin could hear him, especially as he breathed heavily, and he waited… He waited for the coming storm, the rage that Jin would direct at him, and hell, he even waited for the icy coolness of a blade at his neck. 

(Better his neck than his cock!) 

But it never came, and when Mugen had regained himself, he found that Jin was gone, as if he had never been there to begin with. 

~ ~ ~ 

The days went on after that, Mugen more irritable than usual, unable to think of anything else. He kept looking at Jin, but Jin either didn’t notice or pretended not to. 

Mugen huffed more, making a scene, trying to get Jin’s attention, but it amounted to little. 

Irritation prickled his palms, itching to fight, itching for contact, to put his hands on Jin, to have Jin’s own hands on himself, but… 

Jin never faltered, he never took the bait. He was… 

Unusually calm and collected and the more than Mugen thought about that night, the more twisted up Mugen got himself. They passed through towns, they traveled lonely roads. 

Nagasaki wasn’t that far away anymore. 

Mugen would have to confront the bastard face to face, then, if he wanted to resolve the stiffness between his thighs. 

And the irritation buzzing around in his head. It wasn’t confusion, nah. Mugen knew an attractive person when he saw one. He didn’t need any guilt from society for his whims, for his interests in whatever it was that caught his attention. 

Nah, he’d never cared about that at all. And why should he? He wasn’t even considered a person, born to die on that island, raised for no purpose. 

Mugen hissed, and Jin looked over his shoulder this time. 

When Mugen peeled off into the forest, the moon shining high, Jin followed after. 

They stood in a clearing, the moon bright all around them. Mugen itched, he twitched, his palms were sweaty, but he didn’t want to grab his sword, oh no… 

“I’m surprised it took you so long to follow after me…” Jin whispered, the breeze blowing his hair in a stupidly perfect way. 

“Tch,” Mugen just grit his teeth. “Figures you’re a woman-hater.” 

“Hnnn.” Jin was undressing though, undeterred, the blue of his kimono falling away to reveal the paleness of his skin, made all the lighter by the moon. “If I am, as you say, a woman-hater, then what are you, Mugen? Watching me as you did…” 

He had no words, and Jin knew it, smiling at him, smug satisfied. 

“Yeah? Never said I _wasn’t_ into dick, did I?” Mugen was defiant, but Jin’s smirk never fell. 

“Then are we in agreement…?” Jin asked, shrugging the kimono from his shoulders, letting it hang at his hips, his hakama still on. 

“Ain’t all samurai woman-haters to some degree?” Mugen asked, just watching Jin, just looking at him in the moonlight as he stripped himself. His skin looked so soft, smooth, unlike Mugen’s own. Opposites, clashing, colliding. They were two that would strip each other down to their cores, push one another to the brink of oblivion. 

Mugen often reflected that if he had to die, at Jin’s hands, it might be okay. 

But, he was in no mood to die, not tonight. He’d been there before, wasn’t in a hurry to go back. 

“I find women attractive enough, Mugen, but you…” Jin hissed, pulling on the himo of his hakama, letting his clothing fall from his hips, fluttering to the ground in a rustling of rough fabric, worn through, just as Mugen’s own clothing was. “I have failed to get you out of my head for some time.” 

Mugen was grinning. “Hell yeah!” he called out, starting to pull his tunic over his head when the look in Jin’s eyes stopped him. A chilling, strong, unwavering look. He was all power, coiled, poised to strike. 

“You will savour this, so that I might savour this, Mugen,” Jin whispered, his voice nearly wisped away on the wind. 

Mugen swallowed hard, faltering. Only Jin had ever made him stop, only Jin ever had the power to cause him to halt, to think twice, to consider just what he was doing. A raise of Jin’s hand kept Mugen back from attacking, a word from Jin, and Mugen was still, waiting, listening. Mugen wasn’t a thinker, but Jin was. Mugen was all attack and force and brute strength, but Jin, he stepped back, considering a situation before deciding on the perfect move to employ. 

Mugen stepped back now, waiting, watching. He considered the curve of Jin’s neck, the way his muscles twisted down his body, flexing with each soft movement Jin made as he pulled at himo, one tug, two, and his clothing would fall away. None of that rough pulling, fighting, tugging at his ties to get himself free of his clothing, no, Jin was expert, calculated, swift and precise in the removal of his clothes and now he stood there, so very nearly nude before Mugen beneath the full moon. 

“I don’t hate women, but I do prefer men…” Jin whispered, pulling at his fundoshi until he was stripped bare and hard. _So_ hard. Mugen swallowed, looking at him, considering just what he was looking at, considering just how quickly and stupid he would look to start ripping his clothes off. He could get new ones, right? 

But Jin continued to look at him, holding his gaze, until he bowed his head, his lashes fluttering. Mugen was pulling his tunic off, moving much more slowly, but he was standing undressed before Jin in mere moments, when it felt like delightful, excruciating hours had passed watching Jin disrobe himself. 

And he was so hard while watching, so desperate to reach out, to touch. 

And Jin let him. Jin let himself be pushed down into the soft grass. It was tall, it rustled and smelled sweet. They kissed, mouths crushing against one another, desperate and rough. Mugen was all impatience, letting his hands drift down Jin’s body, feeling his muscles, his scars. Would he get to hear the stories of those scars, someday? 

The kiss broke, leaving swollen lips and heavy breathing as they looked at one another. Pink dusted Jin’s cheeks and Mugen ground his hard cock against a pale thigh, desperate for friction, desperate for more, but… But he would halt, until Jin said he could have more, do more. 

Something was pushed into Mugen’s hand and he took it, knowing what it was without having to look. His cock throbbed, his body ached for more, a tightness rooting in his breast, but he could ignore that. 

The grass was cool, tickling his legs as he leaned back. If he was shaky, Jin said nothing, just parting his thighs, drawing his knees up as he waited beneath the full moon. Mugen coated his hand, he coated his cock to ease his ache and he eased in two fingers. Jin’s breath hitch, his eyes fluttering shut; Mugen wanted more. 

But he waited. 

Mugen twisted his fingers deep, pushing in a third, groaning at the tightness, the heat gripping his hand and wanting _so_ much more. Having Jin arch just from fingers, though, that was something. Jin bucked back onto Mugen’s hand, grinding and relaxing as he took his cock and jerked slowly, his hole loosening just a fraction and Mugen swallowed hard. 

How long could he really have patience…? 

Mugen was certain that Jin would take him to the limits of his patience. 

And Mugen would revel in it. 

Blunt nails dug into Mugen’s shoulder, pushing him back. “ _More_ ,” Jin breathed out, his cheeks dark, his glasses gone as his black hair spread out on the green grass. 

Mugen grinned, taking his fingers from Jin’s twitching hole, coating his cock with more of the oily unguent. A breeze blew warm over his back and Mugen lined himself up with Jin, rubbing the head of his cock over that twitching hole, delighting in the ever so slight squirming from Jin. Guess Mugen wasn’t the only impatient one. 

With one shove of his hips, Mugen was in, taking in a shaky breath, forcing his eyes open, watching that stupidly perfect face come undone, watching Jin falter and fall apart, watching his brow knit as he was penetrated. Still so quiet, his neck stretched and Mugen had those fleeting thoughts again, of marking him, sucking bruises high enough that his kimono collars couldn’t hide them. 

But that had to be for later. For now, he drew back, pushing in slowly, building up, letting Jin have time to adjust. They would savour this night, and maybe that wasn’t so bad, after all. 

Mugen groaned, sliding in deep, grinding his cock in as Jin’s fingers wandered down Mugen’s arms, leaving light, tingling trails. They kissed, they nipped, pulling back to look at one another as Mugen thrust slow and shallow. Mugen was loud, louder than he needed to be, and Jin allowed it, a groan coming from that pale throat. 

Jin’s breath came in quicker, bucking harder to meet each of Mugen’s thrusts. He was getting tighter, his dark eyes barely open, looking up at Mugen as breathy moans escaped his kiss-swollen lips. “M-more!” 

Mugen grinned, hot, sweaty. He moved hard then, he moved fast and Jin laid there for him, giving him small, whispering sounds. It wasn’t enough, Mugen was still much louder, even though it was Jin that had a cock shoved up his ass! 

How the hell did the bastard even manage to do that?! 

But Mugen just growled, doubling his efforts, tripling them until he finally heard more from Jin, until he finally got _some_ of the loudness he was seeking. Jin clawed at his back, he held on, eyes half-lidded, his throat bared. Mugen didn’t resist the urge to graze his teeth over Jin’s neck, didn’t stop himself from nipping and leaving marks, and when Jin came with a shout, Mugen let himself spill inside, even if that’s probably not what Jin wanted. 

They panted, looking at one another, their eyes misted, both of them smiling. And damn, Jin just looked prettier when he smiled. 

“I… I wish you had done this sooner…” Jin spoke, taking in a long breath. 

Mugen tried not to let it get to him. He should have acted sooner, they were nearly to Nagasaki. 

But just because that had been the deal didn’t mean this needed to end then, either… 

Mugen had pulled himself back from the brink of death more than once and well… 

Jin pulled him down into a kiss, and Mugen returned it, still pushing his not-so-soft cock into Jin’s loosened, dripping hole. 

Whatever they faced in Nagasaki, he’d kill it, and then he’d think about wandering again, but maybe not so alone, this time.


End file.
